


What We Want

by waterbird13



Category: Fast & Furious (Movies)
Genre: Brian just wants to be a Toretto, Dom's POV, F/M, Family, M/M, Multi, No cheating, Poly, Polyamory Negotiations, Pregnancy, Relationship Negotiation, post fast and furious 7, wise Mia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:20:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24218785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterbird13/pseuds/waterbird13
Summary: Dom leaves Mia and Brian behind with the baby, and thinks that's it.Until Mia calls and demands he come home.
Relationships: Brian O'Conner/Dominic Toretto, Brian O'Conner/Mia Toretto
Comments: 7
Kudos: 160





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, all!
> 
> I've been sitting on this for ages. The part you're seeing has been done forever, but this was supposed to be a much longer thing that didn't work. Ultimately, I realized the first two chapters (which you're getting) stand on their own, and decided to post them. 
> 
> I might leave this as-is. If people like it, I might someday come back and either attempt to make the larger storyline this belongs in work, or else post this as a serious of snapshots, little moments I envisioned in this story.
> 
> Here's the warnings: this is post F7. While I think the end of that was beautiful for us, I'm messing around with it in universe. If that's not something you like, I get it.
> 
> Mia and Dom are coming to an understanding about essentially sharing Brian. Everyone in here is consenting and no one is sneaking around. Mia and Dom are just siblings.
> 
> Oh, background you need to know: At the end of F7, Letty doesn't magically get her memories back through the power of love. By the same token, Dom wasn't saved by the power of love. Instead, Brian's CPR attempts saved him. Because I love love, but...yeah, I don't go in for the miracle cure that is the power of love.
> 
> Like I said, if you like this, let me know. It's possible there will someday be more.

Dom’s gone nearly four months before Mia calls him back.

It’s a lonely few months. Letty’s left—“I’m never gonna be who you fuckin’ want, Dom, we need to admit that, just ‘cause I came back to help the family don’t mean I want to try”—and everyone else has gone back to their lives.

So it’s just him. Just him and the cot he’s set up at the back of the garage, because 1327 is still a bombed-out husk, and it’s unlikely to change anytime soon. Without a family to fill it with, Dom finds himself highly unmotivated to haul in construction crews, get work permits, sort out insurance. Letty left him in the dust. Vince, Jesse, dead. Leon, off the face of the planet, it seems. Mia and Brian and Jack and the little unborn girl, gone now. The house was always meant to be a family home, and Dom isn’t going to build it back up for one.

He’s never going to have a family there again, he knows it in his soul.

But even so, he assumes he was the only one listless. That he has made his sacrifice, done the right thing, known what he was doing, paid the price. Was having some growing pains, was all. That it’d take time, but he’d get it. He’s a grease-monkey. He’d fix some cars, race a bit, put some distance between them, remember them all on that beach when he’s particularly lonely. But also remember what he could cost them, and leave them the fuck alone.

So his phone ringing was a surprise. Not that he never expected to hear from his sister again, of course. They were  _ family _ . He wanted a call when the baby was born, he wanted to hear about Jack, he wanted Mia and Brian to know he was still here, that it was never goodbye.

But he thought, given their enemies, given what his choices had cost them all in the past, they’d agreed distance was for the better.

So he picks up, fumbling a bit with the phone. “Mia?”

“Dom.”

“Everything okay? You—Brian—Jack—baby—“ Dom runs through names, quick, tripping over his words, images crossing in and out of his brain.

“We’re fine, Dom. Brian’s down on the beach with Jack. I’m supposed to be resting.”

_ Supposed to be _ . But not actually. Oh, she’s in bed, he’s sure. That’s Mia Toretto, to the core; obeying the letter of the law if not the spirit. As opposed to him, who just smashes the whole fucking law to pieces. She was always the finer craftsman’s tools, while he was the jackhammer. 

But she’s calling him. Because something is wrong.

“Mia, what is it?”

“You need to come back.” She doesn’t beat around the bush. Says it flat-out, matter-of-fact.

“I need to—what?”

“Back. Here. We need you here, Dom.”

Dom swallows; suddenly, his throat feels parched. Where the fuck is his drink from earlier? 

“What's wrong?” He asks again.

She huffs. “Nothing’s  _ wrong _ , Dom, other than you’re not here. You should be here.”

Dom narrows his eyes, looks around the garage as he thinks about it. “Did Brian…did he do something, Mia?” He doesn’t think…He knows Brian, trusts him with his life, with Mia, with Jack, both worth far more than Dom’s life. Brian would  _ never, _ would literally die first, but Dom’s not an idiot and Mia’s acting weird. He needs to hear it from her mouth.

“Fuck you, no,” Mia says. She huffs. “Look. Julia’s due in two months.”

Dom starts; they haven’t talked since he and Brian last saw each other on that road, no contact at his own request, separating their lives, giving them all some distance and making it clear to anyone watching that Brian and Mia are out of Dom’s life and circle. They hadn’t had baby names picked yet.

“And?”

“And it’s not working.”

“What isn’t?” He genuinely thought the kid could do it. Sure, he’d miss the bullets and the rush, but his family—Brian valued family just as much as Dom did. Differently, because Brian knew what it meant not to have it and was grateful for it that way, whereas Dom knew what a great gift he was given and how easily it could all be taken away. But they both loved their family. Brian wouldn’t let Mia slip away. Wouldn’t let them  _ not work _ .

“Dom. The only reason any of this worked, ever, was because of you. Having you not around—well. It doesn’t work. So. We need you here.”

Dom swallows, runs it all over in his mind. What she’s asking—what she’s  _ telling— _ him. Jesus. All the things he thought about, didn’t let himself think about. All the lies and half-truths. All the things they buried and didn’t talk about. 

“Mia, you know why I left,” he says. “There are people out there…it’s better for your family, if this business stays away from you.”

“Then I guess you have a choice to make, Dominic Toretto,” she says, voice hard as steel, channeling their mother’s spirit in a way that makes the hair on his arms stand on end. “Which do you _ really _ value more: your family, or your business? Choose.”

“Mia…”

“I’m going to take that nap,” she interrupts him. “If you’re going to make the right choice, be here with  _ our _ family, I’ll see you soon.”

She hangs up, leaving Dom staring at his cellphone in the empty garage.

Dom, admittedly, hasn’t done much for the past four months. Hasn’t seen much need. He’s kept a minimal amount of business at DT’s, slept at the garage, ate when he’s been hungry, and raced occasionally, when the spirit moved him.

One thing he has done, one thing to be proud of, is he’s taken the Charger and brought her back to life. It’s been something to keep him busy, considering the sheer amount of damage he did, what with driving into a helicopter, then collapsing a parking garage. But no one was around to scold him for that.

He’s not leaving the Charger behind. With money, it’s not that hard to ship the car to Santo Domingo via boat. At the last second, Dom decides to chicken out and cancel his plane ticket and ship himself via boat as well.

He and the car board in the port of Los Angeles and Dom figures some time to think will do him well. Plenty of time to think, get his head on straight, before he has to deal with whatever awaits him on the other side.

Of course, the reality of the situation becomes clear just about as soon as he can no longer bail, unless he’s interested in swimming. Trapped at sea with only his thoughts for company, Dom grits his teeth and locks himself in his cabin, lying flat on his back in his bed.

He doesn’t need to think. He needs  _ answers _ . Needs to know what Mia meant. What she’s offering.

It can’t be what it sounded like. Can’t be all the things Dom doesn’t let himself think about, wonder about, want, because Mia got there first, laid a claim, and because there was Letty, and, hell, because Brian’s a guy and that makes things complicated in their line of business. It can’t be that.

Except…it kind of sounded like that. Maybe she just wanted her brother, Brian’s friend, Jack and Julia’s Uncle around. But it didn’t sound like that.

Contrary to popular belief, Dom and Mia are usually pretty in sync. Talk the same language, know each other’s stride. Dom doesn’t work without Mia at his back, and he likes to think the reverse is also true. He knows her, from the minute he met her in a hospital thirty-one years ago, more than he knows any other person. 

Mia’s not saying she wants him around to babysit, or because Brian needs a business partner opening a garage, is all Dom’s saying. He knows it deep in his gut, same way he knows every other hidden facet of what Mia says.

But it’s going to be some long days before he can know for sure.

Dom lands in Santo Domingo a little worse for wear, scruffy and with dark circles around his eyes and jittery to boot. He does his best to drive off the jitters on the way to Mia’s and Brian’s, but even if he does have some moderate amount of success, it seems they come back double, triple strong as soon as he parks, pulling up next to Brian’s Supra.

Honestly, half of the nerves might be from the sight of that, of their cars, side by side, feeling more like home than anything Dom’s seen or imagined in a while, and it makes his pulse pound a bit.

The Charger is good for a lot of things, but subtly isn’t exactly one of them. Brian, who knows that car as well as anyone, who rebuilt it himself once from the ground up, comes outside, blinking at Dom.

He looks good, all golden and sun-kissed, like he’s been out on the beach more often than not. Probably in just board shorts, Dom thinks, then tries very hard not to think of how he’d probably like to see that. For the first time in what feels like forever, his hair is growing back out. Maybe not what it once was, but enough that the ends are curling a little bit, and Dom can’t suppress the urge to tug fast enough.

The only piece of the classic Brian O’Conner picture that’s missing is the smile, but, really, considering it’s been four months of no contact, Dom probably shouldn’t have expected one.

“Dom?”

“Hey.”

“What’re you…” He trails off.

Mia didn’t tell him, then. The invitation wasn’t so much from both of them as an order from Mia, and Dom feels a brief flash of irritation, the same one he felt when his kid sister decided she was going to hook him up with her pretty friend who hung around the garage and the racing scene. He wonders if she really understands what she might be messing with, here.

Then again. That was Letty, and while, yes, things didn’t exactly work out there, they were together for nearly a decade, so maybe Mia gets a pass. Mia always knows more than everyone but Dom gives her credit for.

Dom takes a deep breath. “Mia called me.”

Brian blinks again. “Uh…why?” He asks, then winces. “Not that I’m not glad to see you. ‘Cause, man. Am I glad to see you. But. I thought—“

“Mia told me to decide,” Dom interrupts smoothly. “Business, or family. And when she put it like that…it ain’t much of a choice, is it?” He takes a hesitant step away from the car, closer to Brian, who takes him in with open arms, one long grab, like he can physically squeeze Dom into his body. “‘Sides. If you can do it, I knew I’d manage to figure it out.”

“Hardy-har har,” Brian grumbles, but he doesn’t let go. If anything, he squeezes Dom tighter. “Missed you.”

“Where is everyone?” Dom asks, finally, reluctantly, letting Brian go before he does something stupid. Better to find and talk to his sister first.

“Mia got Jack to lay down with her. They’re in bed upstairs.”

_ Bed _ . Brian and Mia’s  _ bed _ , and Dom needs to have that talk with his sister, because holy shit are they on shaky fucking ground here. 

“You tire the poor kid out?”

“Took him for a ride earlier,” Brian shrugs. “Then let the waves bash him around for an hour or so. Out like a light.”

Dom chuckles. Jack’s as energetic as his father, got the smile to match, too, heart-melting and endless. Dom’s missed it more than he can say.

“He’ll be stoked to see you,” Brian continues. “Asks about you all the time.”

Dom blinks. “You’re kidding. Kinda assumed he’d mostly forget about me.”

“Dom, you’re many things. Forgettable ain’t one of them. Jack asks where you went, like, three, four times a week.”

“Still?”

“Still.”

Dom swallows. “You didn’t…you could have called me.”

Brian looks away, like the clapboards on the house are suddenly fascinating. “You made what you wanted pretty clear, Dom.”

“I just…I wanted your family to be safe, Bri,” he says, a little hopeless, a little lost.

“ _ Our  _ family,” Brian snaps, and it makes Dom’s head hurt, to hear that anger from Brian, cold and frosty and making Dom ache with it. “It’s  _ our family _ , Dom, okay, unless you don’t want us anymore.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” He says, doing his level best not to get angry in turn. He doesn’t deserve to be the angry party here and he full well knows it. Besides, he’s thousands of miles away from “home” and he’d  _ really _ prefer not to piss Brian off to the point where he has to find a hotel for the night. “Mia…Mia told me to choose and I chose. I chose family, Brian.”

Brian looks him over, long and slow, and then just nods. “I was starting to get dinner together,” he says. “Would you help?”

It’s as good an invitation as any, so Dom nods, gets his bag from the back seat, and follows Brian inside.

Brian begins making chicken nuggets for Jack, then eyes the bag speculatively. Dom intervenes before Brian can decide,  _ fuck it _ , and pour the whole bag out to feed them all. Frozen processed chicken is not Dom’s idea of a good time.

Dom wonders how often this has been happening, how often little things have been sliding, how often Mia and Brian have eaten dinosaur chicken nuggets for dinner. Mia, in her third trimester and tired, leaving the cooking to Brian, who will happily wash every dish and do every other household chore beside but still can’t cook worth a damn. Dom’s seen it before.

But he was there, some days, last time, to pick up the slack when Mia was pregnant with Jack, when Jack was an infant and both parents were exhausted. 

Dom doubts Mia called him here to make dinner, but he settles into the place he left behind easily, hip-checking Brian out of the way and running him back and forth for ingredients. 

Dom keeps it simple—after all, he has about the same amount of time it takes chicken nuggets to cook—but he manages to get some pasta going. Best he can do, without more time and more prep. Tomorrow, he’ll inventory their fridge and maybe make a run into town, get the lay of the land and stock up.

Dinner’s just about done when he hears footsteps on the stairs, rapid little feet pounding down.

“Jack Vincent, don’t you run on those stairs!” Mia calls.

Dom closes his eyes. Somehow, just him and Brian in the kitchen, he almost forgot. Almost calmed down.

Jack, being Jack and being a toddler, doesn’t listen and keeps pounding away, until he comes to a dead stop at the archway entrance to the kitchen. “Uncle Dom?”

He’s bigger than when Dom saw him last. A lot bigger. It’s only been four months but it suddenly feels like four years. “Hey, buddy,” he says, abandoning the spaghetti sauce to crouch and open his arms.

Jack doesn’t need an invitation, running in for a hug which Dom eagerly returns, lifting the kid off the ground, burying his face in his hair. The kid has Mia’s hair, even smells like hers as a kid, some long-forgotten sense memory triggered. Baby shampoo.

“Uncle Dom! I’ve missed you.”

Dom kisses the crown of his head. “Missed you too, buddy. But I’m here now.”

“To stay?”

He looks up to see Mia in the doorway. She’s watching them both closely, and then her eyes drift to Brian, who’s watching them too.

Dom swallows. Wants with his whole heart to say yes. “We’ll see, buddy. You hungry?”   


When dinosaur nuggets are consumed, Brian looks around the table and seems to come to a decision. “Jack, buddy, you wanna go for a ride?” 

Jack bounces in his seat. “Ride!”

Brian chuckles. “Go find your shoes.”

When Jack runs off, Brian gets to his feet a little slower, kissing the crown of Mia’s head, touching her expanded stomach once, slowly. He squeezes Dom’s shoulder on the way past. “Leave the dishes piled for me when you’re done,” he says. “I’ll get Jack down when we get back, then wash up. Give you guys some time.”

Mia looks at him. “I didn’t cook, I can—”

Brian kisses her forehead again. “Neither did I,” he interrupts. “It’s cool. You guys need a chance to talk.”

And, easy as that, he walks off to go find Jack.

“That was easy.”.

Mia shrugs, an almost helpless gesture. “It’s Brian. You know him. Easy-going as anything, unless he thinks it’s worth fighting for.”

It’s true; Brian’s every classic California surfer stereotype until you give him a fight. Easy-going until he’s not. Then good fucking luck. Even for Dom.

“How…how’ve you been?” He asks, hesitantly.

“Pregnant,” she says flatly. 

It’s obviously true. Where Mia wasn’t even showing last time he saw her, she’s big now. Glowing, too. 

“And…Julia?”.

“Two months to go,” she says. “She’s good, Dom. Healthy.”

The conversation peters out, leaving them awkward around the table, plates left behind, but Dom doesn’t want to get down to business while Jack and Brian are still in the house. 

Mia gets herself to her feet, and Dom hurries to help her. “I’m fine, Dom,” she says. “Pregnant, not an invalid.” She begins to clear the dishes, and Dom follows suit.

Finally, they hear the front door click shut, and Brian’s car start and drive away. “They’ll be back in an hour or so,” Mia says. “Brian’ll probably take him to get ice cream.”

“Yeah?” 

“Brian strike you as the kinda dad to deny his kid ice cream?”

Not at all, actually. Dom concedes with a nod and deposits the last of the dishes in the sink, then walks back to the kitchen table and takes his seat once more.

“So, you made it,” Mia says, once she’s carefully positioned herself into a chair, hands folded primly on the table in front of her, like this is a business meeting.

“You think I wouldn’t come? You asked.”

“You left,” Mia says, and her voice is even but her fist is also tight, and Dom knows what that means. He does it too. “You got up and left us here. Didn’t ask us first, just left us behind. Brian had to chase you down to get so much as a goodbye out of you.”

_ “You _ wanted out. Wanted Brian out, wanted your family safe, and—“

“ _ You are part of my family!” _

The house is big enough that it echoes, just for a second. Dom holds very still. “I know I am,” he says softly. “But, Mia, you have a new family now, Brian and Jack and Julia, and you need to think about them, and—“

She shakes her head almost violently. “We don’t work without you, Dom. We don’t—either you’re a part of this family, or there’s not gonna be a family.”

Dom goes very, very still. “I think this is the part where we need to be very, very clear with what we’re saying.”

“Wasn’t aware we weren’t already,” Mia says mulishly. She nods though, before taking a deep breath. “Brian loves me.”

“Yeah.” Any blind man could see that. Hell, Dom’s been able to see it for years. He meant what he said, back then, break her heart and Dom’ll break your neck. Only Brian's complete, obvious love for Mia had saved him.

Well. Only Brian's complete, obvious love for Mia and Dom’s complete, hopefully less obvious love for Brian.

“He loves me and he loves our kids. Good father. Good man, good to me, everything I could ever hope for, even if…” she shakes her head. “You know I dreamed of…of a doctor, or a lawyer, or anyone but someone into cars, someone in your orbit. But Brian loves us and I love him more than I ever thought I could love anyone.”

Dom swallows. He knows. He’s thought about that a lot. How he can’t ruin what already works, how Mia deserves something good, how Brian adores her, how she adores him.

“Brian’s…Brian’s special, though,” she continues. “For someone…maybe he just went so long with nowhere to put it, I don’t know. But he’s got a lot of love inside him. Some to spare.”

Dom’s mouth goes dry.

“He loves you, Dom,” she says, blunt as ever, “he always has.”

“And…you’re okay with that?” Dom manages after a moment.

“I’ve had too many years to come to terms with it to  _ not _ be okay with it now,” Mia says. “He told me…all those years ago, our first date…he told me he was there for me, and you were just incidental. He wanted it to be true, I think. It was, partially, but at the same time,” she shakes her head. “Like I said. He has a lot of love to give. I’m not surprised by it, Dom. It’s not news to me. Brian  _ loves _ us, loves this family, and this family does not work without all of us. It’s that simple.”

Simple, she says, like it’s not the most immensely overwhelmingly complicated thing Dom’s ever heard.

“Have you guys…talked about it?” He asks.

“Yes,” she says simply, throwing him, because he honestly expected a no. Expected it to be something that was never said out loud. “Of course. I…he doesn’t lie to me. I asked and he told me.” She takes a deep breath. “He also told me it didn’t mean anything. That he loved me with everything he’s got, and that this didn’t change anything. But I know better.”

“Brian would never—“

“I’m not accusing him of anything,” Mia says. “Just saying that it means something. He can’t forget that he loves you. He always has. And I know that this family is always meant to have you in it too. Don’t you get it, Dom? I didn’t call you back on a whim, or…or whatever else you’re thinking. I called you because this isn’t gonna work. Brian needs you. I need you. Jack and Julia need you. You need to be here. And we’ll make it work. There’s room here. Brian’s been talking about opening a garage, but he’ll be happier, doing it with you. And—“

Dom reaches out and lays a hand across his sister’s, cuts across her babbling. “I think,” he says, with absolutely as much calm as he can muster, “we need Brian here before we can talk anymore.”

She takes a deep, shuddery breath, but then nods.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian comes back and gets to join the discussion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I'm posting chapter two earlier than I said, but I did my editing real quick and this story is really dry without it, anyways).
> 
> Well, here's the next bit. Brian comes back, and Brian, Dom, and Mia demonstrate some pretty high level communication skills.
> 
> It's important to know everyone wants this. They do mention past trauma a bit--Dom briefly alludes to prison, for example. Brian temporarily feels bad, and thinks he's doing wrong by Mia, but Mia and Dom help him out.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this thing I've had written forever! Let me know.

By the time Brian comes back, a sleeping Jack in his arms, Dom and Mia have washed the dishes, cleaned up the kitchen, and settled on the porch to watch the waves. 

The time they spent on the porch isn’t silent, although it starts that way. Finally, though, it seems Mia can’t stand it anymore. 

“When’d you know?” She asks. “That you were in love with him?”

Dom swallows. Here it is, the things he doesn’t talk about, but it’s Mia asking, and, short of perhaps Brian, she deserves to know more than anyone. 

The answer isn’t an easy one, either, because in Dom’s admittedly not incredibly wide experience, love isn’t easy. It’s not sudden. It doesn’t happen in a moment, and, when it comes to him and Brian, it certainly wasn’t at first sight.

Oh, he certainly fell slowly, pieces at a time, here and there. The kid who stood up to him and Vince at the store, or mouthed off at the race, or rescued him and drove with such controlled recklessness during the raid. Or showed up with that stupid smile and that Supra the next day. Looking back on any of those moments or a dozen others—driving the Supra and smoking the Ferrari, Brian handing him his keys, talking about the Charger, any of a dozen family dinners or beer runs—makes something inside him tighten and warm. 

But when he  _ knew _ . When he  _ knew  _ and couldn’t ever escape the knowledge, couldn’t ever forget even as he couldn’t do anything about it—“the border,” Dom says eventually, voice practically hoarse. “It just…he almost died and he was making dumb jokes and the FBI were coming and I couldn’t even think about running because I loved his dumb ass too much to leave him there.” Brian had once again given  _ everything _ for Dom, he doesn’t say, and all Dom could think about was having Brian by his side forever, even as he knew his options were run or prison. He’d chosen prison. For Brian.

Mia nods. Doesn’t say that not forty-eight hours before, she and Brian had rekindled their own relationship and they both know it. 

Then again, maybe it doesn’t matter. Maybe Brian really does have enough love in his heart for two. Brian always was special.

Brian always was the most loyal son of a bitch Dom had ever seen, even considering how they met, Brian’s history. Maybe especially considering that. Brian’s got so much to give, too much, maybe, so much it should scare him a bit. Does, sometimes.

Right now, though, it makes something throb low inside of Dom. Because maybe,  _ maybe _ , there’s something left inside of Brian to give to Dom, too, something he hasn’t yet given.

Dom’s a selfish bastard, because Brian’s given him so much, and here he is, hands out and asking for more.

To shake off that train of thought—no use dwelling on it, Mia says Brian loves him and they’ll talk when Brian gets back—he asks her, “When’d you know?”

“That I loved him?” He grunts in confirmation and she tilts her head. “That’s a complicated question.”

“No shit.”

“Fair enough.” She considers for a moment. “I liked him from the start. He was sweet and funny and cared about  _ me _ . Not you, not racing. Me. Or at least, that’s how it looked. And even when he cared about you and the cars and all of that—he still listened to me talk about Vince and you and school and really  _ heard _ me in a way that just felt  _ special _ then, you know?” She shakes her head. “You don’t. Everyone always hears you. But me…it changed my life, being heard. Showed me…for the first time, I realized I didn’t have to escape your orbit to not be someone’s runner-up.

“And even when…even when it was a lie. When he had to tell us. Well. He still saved Vince, didn’t he? Even though Vince hated him? You saw how scared he was, didn’t you? Shaking and…and just terrified. And he did it anyways.”

Dom raises an eyebrow. “ _ That’s  _ what made you realize you love him?”

She shrugs. “All I’m saying is, when I stood there, between you and him, I knew you were calling and I knew I had to go with you, and he knew I had to go with you, but I almost stayed. Just for a second. But I almost did.” She closes her eyes, hands on her expansive stomach, a strange half smile on her face. “I was twenty-two, Dom. Maybe I just liked the idea of star-crossed lovers. Anyways, I thought…I thought I could forget him. That it would fade. And it did, mostly. Like I said. I was twenty-two. I didn’t really… But, when he came back, and when I saw what he’d give…I liked him just fine, I gave him a second chance. But I knew I was in love with him again the day he told me the plan to get you off that prison bus, if the trial went bad.” She turns to him, half-smile still in place. “I keep telling you, Dom. It only works with all three of us.”

Before Dom can respond or even process that, headlights wash over the porch, the Supra rumbles up the drive. 

“They’re home,” Mia says, and that seems to be their queue to settle back into silence, like it’s Brian’s turn to talk now.

Brian takes twenty or so minutes to settle the kid into bed, then comes back downstairs, eyebrow quirked. “Said I’d get the dishes.”

“We had time,” Mia says, one hand on her stomach, rubbing absently.

“Everything okay then?”

“Fine,” Dom agrees.

Brian flops into the remaining chair, long limbs sprawling and Dom has to suppress his smile, shouldn’t find Brian’s moments of gracelessness as attractive as he somehow does. Brian, who drives with carefully controlled recklessness, who’s all long limbs he somehow somewhat controls, is the oddest combination of grace and awkward duck, and Dom can’t help but find it more than a little endearing.

“So…” Brian says, drawing the syllable out and tapping his fingers against his thigh. “What’d you two talk about?”

Nervous. Brian's nervous, and Dom thinks that they really shouldn’t have let him leave, should have put Jack to bed and had this conversation with the three of them. Except how much worse would that have been, hashing that out with Brian in the middle? It really was a conversation for Dom and Mia, two siblings feeling out the shared territory, working out this ground between them. Working out if this was even possible, between them.

Still, here’s Brian, feeling like some sort of sentence is being delivered to him, and Dom doesn’t know quite what to do to make it better.

“Dom’s gonna stay,” Mia says. “If you want him to.”

“If I want him…fuck, man. I didn’t want you to leave in the first place,” Brian says.

“I won’t again,” Dom says, and it’s true. He won’t. Mia’s right; this is family, and he won’t leave his family behind.

It’s silent for a moment. “Brian…” 

Brian’s jaw tightens. “Mia,” he snaps, and Dom’s whole body rotates immediately towards that sound. He’s heard Brian snap and bite and shout at dozens of different people before, Dom included, probably more than his fair share of times. But never, ever at Mia, not even on their worst days, not even when she was pissed at him and spoiling for a fight in that Toretto way. “I told you to leave it.”

His words are angry, his whole body tense, but his eyes are fragile, in a way Dom’s only seen a handful of times before, in a way Brian, as far as Dom knows, only lets him and Mia see. Brian isn’t angry with her. He’s  _ scared _ .

Well, that he can fix, at least. Or he hopes so, at any rate. 

“I’m not staying for Mia,” Dom says, wishing he was better with words. “Not just for Mia,” he corrects. “You’re family, and I wanna be here, for her and Jack and Julia, but mostly…Brian. I’m here for you. Bri…leaving family behind was hard. It was stupid, and I thought I had good reasons, and it was damn hard. But leaving you behind…it just about killed me, even if…” He trails off.

“I don’t know what she told you, but…” Brian doesn’t seem able to finish the thought. Because whatever he wanted to say next would be a lie, Dom realizes. And whatever else, Brian doesn’t lie to them. Not anymore.

“Brian.”

Brian juts his chin out, jaw set in some sort of challenge, and all Dom wants to do is respond, kiss the stupid challenge off his face, make it sink in that this is for real, for keeps, that Brian can have this. He’s not an idiot, he’s picked up some shit over the years, he knows Brian isn’t accustomed to having things in his grasp.

That sometimes, it’s easier to just put it there, rather than wait for him to take it.

So Dom does it, just leans forward and kisses Brian, crosses the gap between their chairs, one hand on Brian’s thigh for balance, the other on Brian’s face to hold him steady. Brian’s impossibly still under him, like a rock, for just a moment, before he’s kissing back almost desperately, hands fisting in Dom’s shirt, one sliding up his back, then up his neck, to his scalp.

_ Desperate _ , Dom thinks, like he’s sure he’ll never get it again, but that’s okay, because Dom has all the time in the world to prove him wrong. For now, he concentrates on proving what he can with one kiss, honestly probably a little desperate himself.

It’s been five years, almost, since he realized he loved this man. It’s a lot of time to wait.

When they finally break the kiss, they both turn to look at Mia, probably for the same reason, waiting for her to pass judgement. She just smiles softly at them, seemingly not at all bothered, and something inside of Dom’s chest—some lingering part that worried that, whatever pretty words, nice promises, his sister made, the rug would get yanked out from under him—loosens and relaxes.

“You two should go somewhere,” she says. “Sort yourselves out.”

“You’re…you’re okay with…with this?” Brian checks, biting his lip at the end.

Mia reaches forward and squeezes his hand, making an odd human chain between the three of them. “I wouldn’t have brought him here if I wasn’t, Brian. I know us. I honestly think we’ll all be happier, this way.”

Brian hadn’t stopped biting his lip. “This isn’t your fault,” he says. “I meant what I said, you know, you’re enough for me. I would never—I don’t need—I’m sorry—“

It’s her turn to lean in, a move made awkward by her belly but she manages anyways, and she kisses Brian hard. Dom watches, and realizes with some bemusement that the jealousy he felt every time he’s seen this before is all but dead.

Brian flails for a moment, one hand still on Dom, one held by Mia, before he gets Mia to let go of his hand so he can reach for her, work a hand into her hair.

“Don’t apologize,” she says softly, pulling away only slightly, and Dom watches them. Almost trying to make himself jealous, he realizes. Trying and failing. This is part of Brian. Brian and Mia, and he can’t begrudge Brian that, because Mia’s right. Brian loves Mia. He just loves Dom too. Equally, so much love in that boy’s heart, just another part of Brian to love.

“I’ve always known, Brian,” she continues. “And I don’t…I love you and I want you to be happy.”

_ “You _ make me happy,” Brian says fiercely, and Dom knows in his heart it’s true—he’s not an idiot, he’s seen the way Brian is around his sister, seen the way his face lights up, seen a look in his eyes he doesn’t get anywhere else—but he’s egotistical enough to think that maybe it’s not the whole truth.

Mia maybe knows the same thing, because she just gives Brian a knowing look. “You’re a stubborn bastard,” she sighs. “Why won’t you just take what we’re giving you? No one’s mad at you, no one’s upset.”

Brian deflates like his strings have been cut, like they’re the only things still holding him up. Dom carefully maneuvers the hand Brian has on him until it’s clasped in Dom’s own hand, giving him a light squeeze. 

“I wanted to be able…I just wanted to be able to give you a family,” he mutters, staring at the ground, some point about ten feet away from them all with such intense focus. “A normal family, without…without fucking it up.”

Dom’s vividly reminded of that night in Rio, the night they learned Mia was pregnant with Jack, sleeping in that condemned building, on the run from Hobbs and his men, Reyes and his men, and Brian admitting that his biological father walked out, chased greener pastures and left them behind. It wasn’t the first piece of information Brian dropped about his past, and it wasn’t the last, but it was a pretty big picture of the Brian O’Conner history puzzle.

It’s the piece Dom needs today, and, judging by the look on Mia’s face, it’s the piece she needed as well. “You have,” she says. “Look at us. This look like anything but a family to you, Brian?”

“But—”

“But nothing,” Dom interrupts. “We’re family, Bri.”

Mia nods approvingly, free hand on her belly. “Brian. Listen to me. Just because it doesn’t look like…like the Brady Bunch, doesn’t mean we’re not a family, okay?”

Brian holds very still for a moment, then nods slowly. Then, like a man possessed, he turns and kisses Dom hard, angle awful and teeth clacking, and Dom can’t stop him, can barely gentle it into something resembling an actual kiss, can barely get Brian to slow down enough for it to feel less like a last desperate moment and more like a promise of something to come.

Brian lets him, though, after a desperate moment. Lets him slow it down, lets him set a different pace. Seems to accept that Dom isn’t going to disappear out from under him.

When Dom pulls away, Brian half chases after him, leaning closer, biting his own lip. 

Mia smiles at them. “Go somewhere,” she repeats. “Take a night to yourself, sort yourselves out, figure things out.”

Brian shakes his head. “We…Jack’d freak, if we’re not here in the morning.” Dom’s heart jumps. Not that Brian doesn’t want to leave with him. No denial, not anymore.

Mia’s eyes go all soft, the way Dom always hoped a guy would make his sister look, and she leans in and gives him one more kiss. “You’re a good father, Brian,” she says, and then stands. “I’m gonna go to bed, then. You two…well, maybe talk it out, I guess.”

Brian pulls her in for one more kiss, a short one this time, and she rubs her hand through his hair. “I won’t wait for you to come to bed,” she whispers, before walking off.

Brian looks a little unsure, a little unsteady, as he watches her go back into the house. Once the front door clicks shut and they’re left outside, he turns back to Dom.

He’s trying for casual, Dom thinks, sprawled back in his chair, and it might work on someone else. Anyone else, anyone but Dom or Mia. But the Torettos, they have Brian’s number, and Brian’s strung so tight he might literally snap in half right then and there.

Dom moves his hand to rub at Brian’s thigh, a move that makes Brian jump a bit before it does anything to loosen him up.

“Your sister’s too good for me,” Brian mutters, staring back at the door, seemingly at a loss for what to say.

“Mia’s too good for everyone,” Dom says. “But keep telling you, if it had to be anyone… I’m glad it’s you, Bri.”

“Even after this?”

“You see me complaining?”

Brian takes a deep, shuddering breath. “Dom, I…I guess I need to figure out what the hell you want from me.”

Dom raises an eyebrow. “What part of this have you missed?”

“Where’s Letty, Dom?” Brian asks, turning to stare right at him, blue eyes piercing and relentless.

Dom doesn’t feel the need to look away, though. “Left,” he says. “She’s not who she was. Told me to accept that and I have. She’s right.”

Brian just studies him for a moment. “And where do I fit in? Am I just…I mean, this is a pretty big commitment, if I’m just a convenient option, but tell me now, if that’s what this is, so I can have some realistic expectations.”

Dom snorts. “What the fuck about you has  _ ever _ been convenient, O’Conner?”

Brian shrugs, but he also has a tiny smile, so Dom considers it a bit of a win. “I know, man. But consider me thrown. I know…look. Your sister, she is exactly my type, straight down the middle, everything I ever wanted, a hundred times too good for me, and I fell head over heels the first time I ever watched her drive. Whatever was left of the job forgotten, all of it, just Mia left. But you—I gave you my keys, Dom, and it fucking meant something. Turns out Torettos are my type ‘cause it wasn’t just Mia blinding me to the job, alright? But I never thought…” He shakes his head. “I never thought anything would happen. Clearly. So spell it out for me, ‘cause I’d prefer not to fuck around. Or, well, I’ll fuck around, if that’s what you’re after, but I need to know.”

“Brian, I didn’t just leave the goddamn country to  _ fuck around _ ,” Dom says. “There’s easier tail in LA.”

“Tail a little more your type, too, I’d imagine,” Brian says, not looking at Dom once again, fingers drumming on his chair. “Dom, I’m not an idiot. I…have you ever even  _ looked _ at a guy before?”

_Outside_ _of prison_ goes unsaid. Maybe Brian didn’t even mean to imply it; maybe Dom only heard it. Dom always hears that shit; his life, so carefully divided into before Lompoc and after, and this is no exception. Because before, sure, he didn’t talk about guys. Didn’t let his gaze linger except when it did, but shit, he did notice other drivers sometimes. After, no fucking way. Not allowed, do not pass go. Not until Brian.

Maybe he should put another careful divide in his life, before Brian and after Brian.

“I appreciate a fine body no matter the make,” Dom settles on. “Brian. I thought about this, alright? A lot. Trust me.” 

“I do trust you, Dom,” Brian says. “Just…Jesus Christ. This can’t be real.”

“Why? ‘Cause you didn’t expect it?”

“‘Cause people don’t get everything they want,” Brian says. “Especially things like this.”

“We do,” Dom says simply. “For this.”

Brian doesn’t say anything for a moment, just studies him. “What do you want, Dom? Spell it out for me.”

Dom swallows. “What you have with my sister…I’m not saying we should have that tomorrow. I know that took time. Years. But, long-term, all-in. If you’ll give me that. I want it.”

Brian, slowly, nods. “I…I want it too,” he admits softly. “God, you have  _ no idea _ how badly.”

“Think I do,” Dom says.

“ _ But _ ,” Brian stresses, “I gotta…I got two kids, Dom. And they gotta come first. You, me, Mia, we’ll figure out how this all works, how you fit into their lives. But you and me, it doesn’t affect the kids.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Dom promises.

Brian just stares at him for a moment, then, without asking, reaches up to grab Dom and pull him into another kiss.


End file.
